


Coffee-flavored kisses

by Pegship



Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode Related, Friends to Lovers, Gen, s02e18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9175345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegship/pseuds/Pegship
Summary: What if Castle told Kate he loved her right after her apartment blew up in "Boom!"?





	

"Goodbye, Nikki. Goodbye, Nikki."

Kate spins on the spot and hurls herself back through the bathroom doorway with the sound of that voice in her ears.

The force of the explosion, or perhaps her desperation, propels her bodily into the one place her frantic mind can imagine as cover – the blessedly huge, iron, claw-footed bathtub. She's lost the towel she'd been clutching and the impact of skin on unforgiving porcelain and metal knocks the wind out of her.

She's also lost consciousness, for how long she can't tell, except that she's alive and in pain. The bathroom window is open a little, so smoke wafts through on its way outside and Kate tried to breathe through her hand, unable to find any fabric with which to filter the air.

She's having trouble focusing, and her ears are ringing, but through it all she can hear someone calling her name.

"Kate! Kate!"

Castle. She must be hearing things. Why would she hallucinate Castle, of all people, coming to find her?

"Kate! Are you there?"

"Castle?" she manages to cough out.

Footsteps and falling debris herald his arrival.

"You're alive! Oh, and you're – naked."

She knows how ridiculous it is to demand some form of covering, but if all she has left is her dignity, she'll preserve what she can. Castle shucks off his jacket (her favorite brown suede) and wraps her in it, helping her out of the tub.

Kate takes one step and feels her knees give way, not from pain but from the sudden vertigo that floods her head.

"Must have hit – head – too hard," she mumbles.

Castle may or may not have heard her; he acts swiftly, catching her behind her knees and shoulders and swinging her up into his arms. He goes crunching over ash and detritus, through the smoke and the flames still licking at the walls and ceiling, pausing when he gets into the stairwell so he can adjust his grip on Kate (and the position of the jacket).

The air in the stairwell isn't so bad, and they're out of the worst of the heat. Kate gives up decorum for comfort and holds tight to the front of the jacket with one hand, the other twisted in Castle's sweater. She buries her face in his shoulder and feels his grip tighten as he moves down the stairs.

"You're okay, Kate," he's saying. "I've got you. You're all right. Almost there."

"Castle. Thank you," she says, wincing when her own voice makes her head pound.

"Shh. Save it. Save your breath, Kate. Stay with me, now."

Her eyes are closing as he rounds the last landing and he's still talking at her; she wants to pass out, wake up when the pain is gone, but then she hears something that makes her heavy eyelids lift.

"Kate – I love you."

She just stares at him. One of her hands comes up to touch his face, resting on his lips just as he says it again.

"I love you."

He doesn't wait for a response; her hand falls away as he kicks open the exit door and heads for the ambulance in the cold, crisp night air.

It's forty-eight hours after the explosion; Kate hasn't eaten anything nutritious since then, or had any sleep other than a cat-nap on the break room sofa. So when Montgomery tells her to go home, and she objects, she knows full well what his response will be. What she doesn't expect is for Castle to pitch in.

"You can, and you will," he says.

Kate grabs her spare clothing from her locker and they drive back to the loft. Castle has alerted his daughter to their impromptu houseguest, so Alexis gives them both hugs and makes herself scarce while Castle introduces his partner to the guest bedroom.

The memory of Castle confessing his love has not slipped her mind. On the contrary, it's one of the few moments she can recall from that night. He's obviously not forgotten, either – she's becoming familiar with the expression he gets when anticipating something.

She's not ready to bring up the subject yet, though. She's got to find and take down the bastard who's been killing unsuspecting, ordinary people, who managed somehow to either get inside her apartment or slip an explosive cell phone onto her person. So she makes small talk and lets Castle tease her about Agent Shaw, finally realizing that she's completely used up her reserve of stamina and saying, "Night, Castle," and heading upstairs.

Kate doesn't think she'll actually sleep – her brain can't seem to shut up, as is usual when in the middle of a case – but she brushes her teeth and hair and dons the sleep pants and t-shirt loaned to her by Alexis and Castle, respectively, and lies down on the sinfully comfortable guest bed, resigned to stare at the ceiling until the sun rises.

That doesn't last long. Once she closes her eyes, the night rushes by; seven hours later, she's curled under the covers in her favorite cat-like position, with the barest bit of sunshine peeking through the blinds. A blissful yawn and stretch later, she listens carefully, hears no one moving around, and decides to go foraging.

It's not even seven o'clock yet; from the conversation last night, Alexis doesn't have to be at school until nine, so it's no surprise that there's no sign of that young lady. As for Castle, Kate acknowledges that she has no idea as to his everyday routine, if any, except that it involves coffee.

Which explains the heavenly smell wafting up to her as she tiptoes to the top of the stairs. The coast seems clear; the kitchen and living area are flooded with sunlight but empty of humans, so she makes her way quietly down to the foot of the stairs.

Just as her feet land on the floor, there's movement on her right, and she turns her head to see her host, Castle in early-morning mode. He's rubbing his face with the heel of one hand, yawning, his hair more rumpled than she's ever seen it, bare feet shuffling, well-worn sleep pants and shirt clinging to his legs and shoulders. He's adorable.

Like a bear scenting something on the wind, he stops ten feet away and lifts his head, dropping his hand when he spots her standing there.

"Hey," he greets her, and his smile is so sweet and sleepy she can't help smiling back.

"Hey yourself," she replies. "I smelled coffee."

"'S the only thing gets me out of bed some mornings," he says. "Make breakfast for Alexis before school. God bless programmable appliances."

Kate follows in his wake as he ambles over to the kitchen, pours two cups of coffee and doctors them accordingly. Handing one to Kate, he toasts her wordlessly and they each drink deeply of their morning concoctions.

After the first mouthful, they sigh in tandem, which makes Kate laugh and Castle grin.

Before she even forms the idea in her head, Kate's lips decide to make a preemptive strike.

"Castle, the other night, when you were carrying me out of the building – " she begins.

"And studiously not looking at your scantily clad body," he puts in, giving her a wide-eyed look over the rim of his coffee cup.

"You said – you told me you loved me."

She isn't sure what to say after that. Fortunately, her shadow is better at words than she, even first thing in the morning.

"I did," he says quietly. "I do."

"I was wondering," she says, gazing into her cup. "Wondering what you – really meant, when you said it."

Once more, he gets it. Of course.

"You mean, do I love you like the brother you never had? Or like I loved my favorite teacher back in the second grade? Or like I love my daughter, my own flesh and blood?"

"Yeah," says Kate incoherently. "Like that."

She senses him coming round to her side of the counter, approaching carefully as if not to spook her, and she looks up at his disheveled-bear hair and ocean-clear blue eyes and the wavy line of his lips that turn up as he shakes his head slowly.

"No," he murmurs. "Not like that. Like this."

He gathers her into his arms, and she catches her breath just before his mouth sinks down on hers, soft and hot, coffee-flavored.

Just the way she likes it.


End file.
